


You All Look Like Ants from Here

by Trajecks



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Adrenaline Junkie, Angst, Gap Filler, Multi, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 00:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3402302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trajecks/pseuds/Trajecks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles Davis Can't hit the high notes since Coldplay walked out and Vanilla Ice is having all the fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You All Look Like Ants from Here

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place between seasons three and four.

Harvey has done well today.  


His client, a Natural Gas Giant is smiling wide as Jessica pours them both a flute of champagne.  


“Vetricon Gas!” says Jessica, raising her glass, pleased.  


Natural Gas Giant mirrors her contentment and wiggles his eyebrows, “May our business only rise.”  


Jessica laughs easily and Harvey pushes out a smile and drinks deeply from his glass. This is the part that makes him itchy.  


Just an hour ago he’d been across this guy’s desk fast-talking and eye-twinkling and promising the moon and all its subsidiaries and the high had had made his teeth chatter around his smile.  


Now he knows he’s meant to revel in the fruits of his labour but he gets away as fast as possible, giving the excuse that he’s got to file the paperwork he took care of 5 minutes after the guy signed. The excitement of a job well done is already fading and the longer he stays in Jessica’s office the clearer Mike’s face (smirking at him like You Are So Douche-y Right Now Toasting Yourselves You Should Shut The Blinds If You’re Going to Circle Jerk) becomes.  


Mostly it’s Mike’s face.  


Sometimes it’s his dad’s.  


When it’s Donna’s he knows he’s going to need surgery to extract his head from his own ass.  


When he gets back to his office Donna is gone for the night. It’s probably for the best. He can’t help pushing her ‘what am I to you really’ button lately and he’s genuinely worried he’s going to get them into a conversation they can’t back out of for the sake of his wounded-ego fix.  


Come to think of it Donna probably knows this too which is probably why she isn’t here. 

Harvey is grateful and sorry all at once.  


He puts on some Miles Davis because it’s never not a good time for Miles Davis (except when it’s time for Ella Fitzgerald - Harvey never gets in a woman’s way) and sits behind his desk observing the room he’s made for himself.  
He loves this room, this office. It’s all highs. 

It doesn't matter if you know sports you know the autographs on his sports memorabilia because the players are that good. If you aren't watching them in the play offs they’re dating your favourite movie star and you know it.  


His records are a mix of classics you couldn't get even if you know a guy who knows a guy who has the rights to the recording (Harvey has Donna who knows that guy and his mistress) and underground up-and-comers who are just underexposed enough for people to feel like Harvey personally discovered them. It’s the kind of collection that makes you think of Harvey 25 years ago holding out Bon Jovi’s first album ( pre ‘Slippery When Wet’ success) and telling you to check them out because they’re ‘pretty cool’.  


If Harvey’s gold-plated thousand dollar fountain pen runs out he will just have to settle for his 500 dollar one (it’s identical but Douglas Adams never held it).  


All Highs.  


‘Life is this, I like this.’ he’d told Mike hoping he wouldn't realise his fraudulent-genius-self was so far above this it was in orbit.  


His fingers tap out a pattern on his desk that’s probably a piano exercise (you legally can’t have Reginald as a middle name without learning some).  


He’s moves to get up and leave but there’s a figure at the corner of his eye fidgeting which turns out to be Rachel Zane glaring at Donna’s empty desk with an air of betrayal.  


“Did you need something Miss Zane? I'm heading out.” he calls to her.  


She startles slightly at being addressed directly, but shakes it off, walking forward into his office, “Not me Mr Specter but, not that he’ll say it… Louis might need some help on his Risten Publishing case. There’s a bit of an issue with the VP.”  


She looks so sincere and Harvey begrudging admits that he sort of gets how this could be Mike’s type.  


“What kind of issue?” he asks.  


She smiles and he remembers that looking that beautiful is everybody’s type, “The kind of issue that only Louis could get himself into, I believe the suggestion of a ‘Mud Fight’ is not off the table.”  


Of course not. 

Harvey looks out at his unparalleled view and tries not to sound relieved at the distraction as he agrees to talk Louis down. He doesn't look at Rachel even when she thanks him with all that sincerity (what? she’s the one who made him ‘Mr Specter’ and let Louis be ‘Louis’ and Mike be ‘a guy who isn't interested in watching Harvey be awesome any more’).  


She leaves and Harvey gets up from his desk, grabbing his briefcase and scanning the room for anything he may have forgotten. Briefly he contemplates bringing home the bottle of Macallan he uses to separate Michael Jacksons solo stuff from the Jackson Five but he thinks he’s got something just as nice at home, maybe nicer. He can’t remember but if Mike had been over recently he would know for sure.  


If he’d been at Mike’s recently he would have been charming and not scowled at the docked 2009 Ipod filled with her John Mayer and his Coldplay (he won’t bend to Harvey’s insistence that it’s not cool to like them any more) and their Daft Punk (and somebodies “that’s not mine I swear” Katy Perry).  


He would have been very polite and just when he was on his way out the door he would've casually mentioned how he ‘really needed to give Katy a call’ and he would've let Mike’s awestruck expression be enough even though he’d know it’d be gone if he looked over his shoulder a moment later.  


But he hasn't been over so it doesn't really matter.  


Taking nothing more he walks out and starts down the hall towards Louis’ office. He doesn’t need to think about what he’s going to say, it will come to him when Louis starts spewing whatever insane confession he’s been balling up all day for Harvey. 

Louis isn't Miles Davis or Ella Fitzgerald. Louis is that Dun-Dun-Dun-duna-Dun-dun that’s either going to be Under Pressure or Ice Ice Baby but you just don’t know until he opens his mouth and sings.  


Harvey fixes a hard controlled expression on his face and doesn't think about what a high that must be.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: the Louis/Vanilla Ice comparison would not leave me alone so this happened. Unbeta'd so please feel free to point out errors/constructive criticism :)


End file.
